Outlets
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: Neither of them knew what to call it, but that didn't mean they'd stop. Birdflash smut.


**Oddly inspired by someone sneezing.**

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><p>Neither of them were ever sure of how it happened. There was never planning to it and they never spoke of it afterwards, but it always found itself happening over and over again, never once finding a name for itself.<p>

One moment, Dick and Wally would be walking into the ebony's apartment with bags of snacks in their arms to tide them over while they caught up on some television series, and the next, Dick was sprawled out on his bed, shirtless, gasping Wally's name into his hair like it was oxygen. Wally would have a vibrating hand wrapped around his dick, pumping relentlessly while he kissed the tanned throat.

The younger of the two would be reduced to little more than whines and moans, his voice hitching on every breath, managing out commands in a thin mewl until English began to fail him. His hands would clutch tightly at the redhead's back, hard enough to leave scars that would last longer than most of the ones left by Justice League missions.

Before long, the sound of skin-on-skin would consume the apartment, broken only when Dick could choke out the other's name in desperation.

"_Wally_," he'd all but sob, managing to make it sound like 'please' and 'more' and 'harder', almost like he had made up his own language with just the one word.

Wally would breathe a laugh against his throat, leaving marks that would stand out for longer than the week previous girlfriends had managed to achieve.

"It's okay," the redhead would murmur against the wet flesh, kissing gently before he would latch back onto a clean set of skin, "Let go. Come on, I've got you."

When Dick came, it would be on a shout that would break, and his fingers would dig in so much tighter where they would stay until he managed to come down enough to laugh giddily and apologize for the mess left over the pale fingers.

It wasn't dating, even if they would curl up on the bed when it was all over and hold each other, muttering sweet nothings until they were both asleep.

College found itself leaving them both stressed out of their mind, what with the horizon being nothing but deadlines and due papers. On some occasions, Dick would crash at Wally's place for the night, needing the familiarity to try and calm down. Half-hearted attempts to study and make a dent in the essays they were supposed to be working on would end when Dick would find himself between Wally's thighs, swallowing him down greedily.

The redhead would stutter out his compliments and gratitude, always so appreciative, mindful to not push when his hands would find the other's head. When the younger of the two would hollow his cheeks and take the cock to the back of his throat, all thoughts of school and the stress that came with it were gone for the both of them. Wally would moan and gasp, hips moving of their own accord before Dick would hold him down, his own pleased sounds encircling the hot flesh.

Sometimes he could manage a warning before he came, and other times there would only be the broken gasp and then Dick would choke on his cum, managing to pull back and get some to drip down his chin. Wally would grin and he'd almost seem to glow, brushing what of himself he had left on the other's face off onto his fingers. The ebony would suck them into his mouth and lick them clean, earning a twitch from the spent cock still even with his gaze and a low throated moan from the other.

If they had been thinking of school at all when it had started, there wasn't a trace left by the time Dick was pressed down against the couch, with teeth on his collarbone and fingers between his legs. There were times when he could come from nothing but those fingers. The times he couldn't, they'd find their way back to the bedroom and Wally would fuck into him until the headboard had a steady beat against the wall and the mattress strained with every thrust.

Wally would have bruises from where Dick's ankles had dug into his back and Dick would have handprint shaped bruises from where Wally had gripped his hips.

They would shout until their throats were raw, and then they'd kiss whatever of the other they could reach. When they both eventually collapsed, whether it was the first or last round, they would lay together until Dick's soreness caught up with him, and then they'd both laugh about it. Wally would carry them both to the shower and clean them up, leaving his apologies on every inch of skin that he could stay focused on long enough.

It wasn't a 'friends with benefits' situation, even if they'd go catch the game that night with Dick's throat bruised thickly with the hickeys left over from what had happened only hours earlier.

Sometimes when they got back from a particularly rough mission, they'd have the locker room to themselves while they were unsuiting. A worried glance shared between the two while they looked over the new scars and bruises left from the baddies and the terrain would be ended quickly when Wally would be slammed back against the wall of the showers.

A hand would cover his mouth while they grinded against each other until they could find the knob of the shower, turning it as high as it would go to drown them out.

Wally's hands would card back through the wet dark locks, grabbing and just _pulling _while their hips jutted desperately at each other giving them the friction that couldn't be explained verbally in anything but the kind of moan found in the back of one's throat. It would bring Dick's hands up the pale chest and then they'd be kissing like they hadn't known how to do anything else. It would be softer than anything else that was going on, thumbs tracing cheekbones and tongues trading off, and it was almost better than the feeling of the other's hard cock against their own.

When the pressure building became too great to handle, Wally's hands would find Dick's back and he'd pull him closer, vibrating in an excitement he could never explain, and then they'd groan each other's names and shoot up over the other's frame until they couldn't tell what belonged to who.

It happened far too often to be a heat of the moment thing, though they'd both agree to there being plenty heat in those moments- only to themselves though. They'd never speak of it.

If anything, it was an outlet.

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><p><strong>-F.J. III<strong>


End file.
